


Three times Garak was hurt to further the plot

by Polina_K_Viardo



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Action, Binge Drinking, Clueless Julian, Drama, Garak the smooth operator, Getting Together, Humor, Interrogation, innuendos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 06:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7607710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polina_K_Viardo/pseuds/Polina_K_Viardo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times Garak gets (lightly) harmed in the name of the plot.</p>
<p>[18+: This is content restricted to audiences of 18 years or over.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shot at

**Author's Note:**

> Rating M is only for having adult themes - there is no explicit content in the story. 
> 
> [18+: This is content restricted to audiences of 18 years or over. Do not read unless you are over 18.]

The first shot missed Garak's head by an inch. The second shot hit the remains of their lunch. Julian spared a thought for the rod with _The Gift of Pain_ \-- one of the finest Cardassian novels ever written -- that now lied shattered on the floor, and bumped his com-badge to alert security.

_Attacker's been apprehended_ was Odo's curt reply. Julian peered over the table at the Replimat's entrance and saw deputies drugging someone away. Blue liquid glistened on the surface of the table, reminding Julian of paint. He reached to touch it but Garak caught his wrist.  
  
"Might be poisonous," Garak said, his eyes fixed on the entrance.  
  
"Did you see who it was?"  
  
"No, unfortunately." Garak looked grim. "But I intend to find out."

* * *

"So it _was_ plain paint?"  
  
"As plain as Cardassian-made paint can be." Odo shrugged. "Your attacker tried to look like inconspicuous old man but he's a Cardassian on a Bajoran station. Besides, after the murder of Aamin Marritza we discreetly follow all lone Cardassians who come here."  
  
One raised eye ridge told Julian exactly what Garak thought about discreetness of the Station's security. Odo grunted.  
  
"Perhaps, Garak, you can explain why elderly Cardassians attack you with a paintball marker?"  
  
Garak's smile was just this side of irritating. "I'm sure I'll be able to, once l see him."  
  
After fixing them with a last warning look, Odo led them to the cells.  
  
The attacker was indeed old, his knobby legs belying his imposing figure. The look he gave Garak was simultaneously appraising and hostile.  
  
"It's true then, what they say," he said slowly, "you've lost your touch, Elim, and waste away here dallying with all sorts of people."  
  
"Wait," Julian said, struck by a sudden realization. "Has he just called you a slut?"  
  
"Not a good time to discover understanding of Cardassian subtlety, Doctor," Garak said, not taking his eyes off the prisoner.  
  
"It wasn't that subtle," Odo said.  
  
"But I do forget my manners. Please allow me to introduce Legate Rotec, a former head of the Ministry of Justice, now in retirement," Garak said, while Julian and Odo stared at the VIP. "Did grandchildren let you out of the cellar, Rotec?"  
  
The prisoner scowled. "That's Legate Rotec for you, _Elim_. And who's that?" He pointed at Julian.  
  
"Don't call me Elim. This is Doctor Bashir and Constable Odo."  
  
"Ah yes, we've had a bit of a chat with Odo already." Rotec's smile would have been pleasant if it hadn't revealed so many teeth. "Nice to meet you, Doctor."  
  
"What's nice is to find you on the other side of the force screen. You see, gentlemen, Rotec has spent years putting the innocent in jail."  
  
"Right." Rotec spat on the floor. Garak winced. "Wherever a heinous crime took place you could always find our Elim nearby, just standing there, you know, innocently."  
  
Garak's expression soured. "There's no need to badmouth me in front of my friends"--he caught Odo's look--"friend."  
  
"Is that why you attacked Garak with paintball marker? Decided to take justice in your own hands?" Odo asked. Garak and Rotec exchanged incredulous glances.  
  
"I'm sure we can all forgive Legate for this harmless prank," Garak said in a honey-dripping voice. "In fact, I think we should immediately discuss it with Commander. To let this minor incident spoil Cardassian-Federation relation would be quite unfortunate, don't you agree?"  
  
Odo opened his mouth to argue but Garak was already off. "Now wait a minute!"    
  
The awkward silence hang in the air after they left.  
  
"What a nice fellow, this shapeshifter," Rotec said before fixing Julian with an appraising stare. "You must be wondering why Elim doesn't mind me shooting him."  
  
"Some Cardassian tradition?" Julian asked, recalling Garak's introduction to _The Gift of Pain_. "To be grateful for the gifts brought by pain and suffering, perhaps?"  
  
Rotec's laughter could have shaken mountains, if they had been planet-side. "Did Elim said that? You should never trust him when it comes to describing Cardassian way of life, Doctor." He stopped laughing as if pierced by a sudden thought. "Actually, you shouldn't trust him, period."  
  
Before Julian could think of an answer, Garak and even more peeved Odo came back to announce that Rotec was free to go.  
  
Odo pushed a padd to Rotec. "Your thumb-print."  
  
Rotec stood up from a bunk with some effort but instead of signing the pad, he walked to Garak.

"Up close your mug is even uglier." He spat again.  
  
Odo looked between Cardassians, his posture going rigid.  
  
"I'm not offended," Garak said, wearing a smile that Julian wouldn't have risked in Garak's place. "A keen sense of beauty was never your strong suit as everyone who have seen your children can attest."  
  
Julian tensed, ready to intervene. Odo stepped back to have more space for shape-shifting, just as Rotec's hand landed heavily on Garak's arm. But instead of attacking, Rotec smirked and then laughed that thunderous laughter again. Garak shook his head fondly. What?  
  
Odo harrumphed. "Cardassians!"  
  
"Care for a lunch?" Garak's expression resembled those he wore every time Julian embarrassed himself particularly badly.  
  
"What do you think? I've spent ages on the transport to get here. But"--Rotec glanced at Julian--"I've spoiled your lunch, haven't? Perhaps, good Doctor should join us?"  
  
Julian would beg for invitation, anyway. As such, he only waited for Garak's nod to agree.

* * *

 "I'm going to visit Revant and kids on the Proxima Three."  
  
"That's Rotec granddaughter, she's a medical malpractice lawyer."  
  
"Oh, it's a great place for it -- Proxima is practically covered with hospitals. They are supposed to be the best in the Quadrant."  
  
Garak stared at Rotec. "You? Visiting a planet of hospitals? Since when do you willingly submit yourself under medical care?"  
  
Rotec scoffed. "Visiting, Garak! Visiting -- not being poked and prodded by these sadists with a license. No offense, Doctor."  
  
"So Garak is not the only one who has troubles submitting under medical care?" Julian asked, smiling at Garak's annoyed expression.  
  
Rotec looked up from his steak, smirking. "Got a hard time submitting, Elim, eh?" he asked, wiggling his eye ridges. Julian choked on his tea.  
  
"Really? And we haven't even drunk anything yet. Or did you help yourself on the transport?" Garak asked.  
  
Rotec's grin only became wider.  
  
"Doctor, if you were to eat slowly, as I always advice you to, you wouldn't be coughing so much now. Perhaps, more water?"  
  
"No, I'm good." Julian coughed the last time. "Is that why you eat so slowly? To be ready for your lunch companion to make you choke?"  
  
Rotec looked between them, clearly on the verge of saying something else, but Garak's stare stopped him.  
  
"I gather you two have been acquainted since Garak's youth?" Julian asked to change the topic.

"Oh, even earlier! Ever since..."  
  
"I'm sure Doctor doesn't want to know all the boring details." Garak's smile acquired a particular shade of menace, so Rotec didn't continue. Julian decided to try indirect approach.  
  
"Garak once told me that in enigma tales everyone is guilty of something. That it, supposedly, reflects your justice system."  
  
"Nothing 'supposed' about it -- that's exactly how it works. Everyone is guilty until proven otherwise. Saves us a lot of time."  
  
"In Federation view that is as offensive as choosing family over State," Garak said.  
  
"How odd!" Rotec contemplated Julian for a moment. "Let me explain, then. Take our Elim, for example,"-- Garak bristled--"he wants us to believe that he's spent his youth working every menial job there is all over the Quadrant, and just because it suited his fancy. Elim's fancy, ha!" He sipped his tea. "This replicated stuff tastes weird. Anyway, can you believe the audacity?"  
  
Julian couldn't. In fact, he found the amount of confirmed information about Garak astonishing.  
  
"Not this again, Rotec." Garak frowned in obvious displeasure, incongruous with the relaxed set of his shoulders.  
  
"When you say every menial job, do you mean..."  
  
"Honey-trapping? Nah," Rotec denied easily. "Elim never did it, never had a"--he gestured at his own face--"for it. Not enough honey..."  
  
"We got that, Rotec."  
  
"Has he never posed as a diplomat or..."  
  
"Why, Doctor, if you wanted all of my secrets you could've just asked." Not only Garak's voice dripped with acid, it also promised Julian a future full of trousers with slightly short legs and too tight inseam. Julian put on his most winsome smile and was relieved to see some of the tension leave Garak's face.  
  
"Or take you, Doctor," Rotec suddenly said, surprising them both. "Haven't you ever broken a law?"  
  
Julian's heart missed a beat. The noise of the Replimat vanished as Julian focused on concealing his reaction. He let no trace of it escape. Yet, Rotec looked at him knowingly.  
  
"Of course you did. The question is which one?"  
  
Something about Rotec's appearance was putting Julian on alert. He couldn't figure out what it was because Garak's speculative stare was tripping completely different alarms in Julian's mind.  
  
After a tense pause, Garak shook himself. "I'm afraid, Doctor, I have to remind you about the time."  
  
Oh God! Julian jumped to his feet almost knocking out the chair. "My shift! It was nice meeting you!"  
  
He nodded to his lunch companions and rushed to the Infirmary, feeling twin Cardassian stares burning holes in his back.

* * *

By the end of his shift, Julian knew exactly what was putting him on alert. Rotec had a splattering of tiny red moles on his face and hands -- a symptom of half a dozen diseases, unique to Cardassians and mostly fatal.  
  
Logic dictated that Rotec's illness was not a cause for medical emergency -- none of the possible diseases were communicable. Surely, Rotec himself knew about the illness. His dislike of Doctors could not be that severe. He was on his way to the planet of hospitals, for pity's sake! There was no doubt that Julian had exactly zero reasons or justifications to interfere.  
  
Yet Julian instincts told him otherwise.  
  
Garak's pleasure at seeing his old friend was palpable. Julian wasn't going to interrupt their reunion with baseless diagnosis. He also couldn't allow any harm to come to Rotec through medical negligence.  
  
Julian needed a plan. A genius-level plan.

* * *

The panel popped open, revealing a holosuite terminal. Booking the holosuites was easy enough; now Julian needed to turn Odo's surveillance feed of Garak's rooms into a three-dimensional holo-feed.  
  
As Julian had had a misfortune to find out during his previous attempt to spy on his friend, Garak had blocked the feed with nothing else but astonishingly awful Cardassian porn. The dialogue alone had stuck in Julian's memory as a brand -- he had had to avoid Garak until the horrid impression had dimmed.  
  
This time Julian was determined to stay strong and ignore the whole thing.  
  
He typed in the last command.  
  
Terminal blinked and the holo-video filled the room. The plot of the block moved swiftly -- barely a minute later Julian had to look away from his work on the override to marvel at the sheer impossibility of the proceedings. That was... Surely, even Cardassians couldn't... Oh God! Julian turned away, torn between horror, medical curiosity, and embarrassment at his own arousal. Lives were at stakes! He had to focus…  
  
Finally, Garak's quarters sprang to life. Garak and Rotec were drinking orange kanar from tall glasses. Rotec sat stiffly on the sofa, his eyes stalking Garak -- so stiffness was to do with conversation, not with his health.  
  
"I do feel so privileged to be visited by fearsome Legate Rotec," Garak said before pausing in his track. "Never thought I'd say that." He shook his head. "Anyway, you'll forgive me for assuming it's not serendipity that brought you here."  
  
Belatedly Julian realized that he should have done something about audio-feed -- he didn't need it to make diagnosis and he certainly hadn't planned on eavesdropping.  
  
But it was too late. Any attempts to switch off the audio made the feed flicker, and Julian cursed his own shoddy coding work. The Cardassians, naturally, refused to discuss the weather.  
  
"That used to really get to me, you know? That the fate had never been there for me. Central Command had gone to rot, those corrupted voles had stolen the Union right from our noses, and you… You had chosen _him_. Where was this damned fate when I needed it?"  
  
Julian tried to concentrate on Rotec's vital signs but he couldn't help but glance at Garak whose only reaction was tightening of his lips.  
  
"I could never get it. Twenty-three orders and you had to choose that one. I wish"--the anger left Rotec just as he averted his eyes--"that you'd chosen mine."  
  
Garak scoffed. "Then you are a fool. But I always knew that."  
  
Hunched over, Rotec looked small and lost. But when he lifted his eyes, they were full of fury. "Turned you into an addict, didn't he? He made you prove yourself. Again, and again, and again! Look at him, that tender father to his soldiers. He sold his approval like a drug on the street corner to all those naive youngsters. He ruined them all. He threw you away like this much trash. And all this time you'd been allowing it to happen. You! How could you let this happen?" After thundering across the room, Rotec's voice dropped to a whisper. "How could I let this happen?"  
  
Garak turned away from the porthole to stare Rotec down. "Oh no. Did I disappoint you too, Rotec? Did I crush your naive dreams so cruelly?" He loomed over Rotec, a snake poised for a strike. "Did you come here to gloat, to relish my disgrace? Did you?"  
  
"No, no." Rotec shut his eyes as if pained. Then he looked at Garak. "I was so proud of you that day, son."  
  
Garak flinched. Julian looked at them helpless, his mission forgotten.  
  
"I'm not your son," Garak said at last.  
  
Rotec smirked. "No, you are more like a nephew I never wanted."  
  
Garak scoffed. His face softened for a moment before his expression abruptly shuttered.  
  
"To come here, to tell me all of this... Not serendipity then." He heaved a deep sigh. "How long do you have left?"  
  
Julian stared at Rotec, shocked.  
  
"Not much," Rotec said reluctantly.  
  
"Planet of hospitals?"  
  
Rotec shook his head. "Revant will take care of me." He stood up and put his hand on Garak's arm. "We all have to go sometime."  
  
"There is this saying in Standard -- 'How mighty have fallen!'. Well, look at us: you, ready to die in your bed surrounded by loving family and sentimental in your dotage. And me, listening to you babble."  
  
"That's true!" Rotec said, laughing."You know, I don't recall ever saying that to you. Must be a first." He shook his head. "You know, Garak, this place suits you well. One of your menial jobs finally stuck, your cover is blown to pieces, and you are surrounded by wholesome aliens who can't play the big political game to save their lives." His smirk became wider. "Then again, this stream of people can't hurt, right? Bound to satisfy even your appetite?" The suggestive wiggle was back. Julian stared at Garak. What?  
  
Garak shrugged. "You're talking nonsense again. Do you have a point?"  
  
"Yes." Rotec's face set in a grim expression. "I never believed in your methods, Garak, but when I look at these people... They seem like children, completely helpless. They'll need someone like you before the end."  
  
The prophetic words hung in the air unchallenged until Garak refilled their glasses.  
  
"For Cardassia!"  
  
Finally shaken from his stupor, Julian turned off the override. Was Rotec right? Would Federation need people like Garak to protect itself? It seemed preposterous, but even the possibility managed to unsettle Julian. What kind of lives Cardassians led that even someone as principled as Rotec found the Station to be a naive ideal instead of cynical imperfect world Julian saw it to be?  
  
A sudden noise that did not belong here cut through Julian's thoughts. "Harrumph!"  
  
Driven by a sheer instinct, Julian turned off the feed but it was too late: Odo and Quark stood at the entrance to the holosuite.  
  
"Not quite a security breach I was expecting," Odo said. Quark was giving Julian a very worrying approving look.  
  
"Next time, Doctor, perhaps you should ask Quark to assist you with the change of the 'program' instead of fiddling with it yourself." Odo's words dropped to the floor with a subtlety of a ton of bricks.  
  
"...Yes, of course."  
  
"Your time is up, but if you'd rather _finish_ ," Quark said, adding insult to the injury, "I could offer you a marvellous discount..."  
  
Julian smiled woodenly and hastened to leave the holosuites with as much dignity as Odo's and Quark's stares allowed. Which wasn't much.

* * *

Rotec shook Julian's hand. "What a nice human tradition! To show that you're unarmed!"  
  
"Yes, it goes back to..."  
  
"And here's my cue to leave," Garak said, and, ignoring Julian's huff, went to the transport with Rotec's luggage.  
  
"It was nice meeting you, Doctor, despite your profession," Rotec said, smiling.  
  
"Likewise."  
  
Rotec's eyes darted in the direction of the transport and back. "Keep him out of mischief."  
  
"I will," Julian said gravely.  
  
"He did grow soft," Rotec added, back to facetious mood. "What a sorry sight."  
  
"Why do you think so?" Julian asked, genuinely curious. "Because he didn't anticipate your attack?"  
  
Rotec stared at Julian. "Because he didn't have a phaser up his sleeve. A rookie mistake!"  
  
"Gossiping again?" Garak asked, his sudden appearance almost causing Julian a heart attack. "Time to go, Rotec."  
  
Julian waited Garak near the airlock -- what if Garak would need a friendly face?  
  
Indeed, Garak seemed thoughtful upon his return, but the far-away look left his face the moment he spotted Julian.  
  
"Thank you again, Doctor, for helping me indulge the old fool. He was always an eccentric and I'm afraid this quality of his only grew worse with time."  
  
Julian listened to the tirade with suspicion. It was very like Garak to praise or condemn the old age as it suited his purposes. But was he trying to lull Julian into complacency by not mentioning the particular rumour? Or had he not heard it yet?  
  
Garak continued. "I hope we didn't take too much of your time yesterday." It still sounded innocent. "I've heard you had a very busy evening." And here it was!  
  
"It's just rumours, Garak," Julian said quickly. Garak's quizzical stare was perfectly polite, yet Julian felt that he was losing his ground and fast. "They are all untrue."  
  
Garak's face broke into Cheshire Cat grin. "What, even the truths?"  
  
Julian smiled. "Especially, the truths."


	2. Taken captive

"I'm sorry it came to this, Doctor."  
  
They were captured on their way back to the station.  
  
Earlier, when they had been departing for a medical mission on Bajor, Julian resented Commander Sisko for allowing Garak to tag along. Now that they were here, on board an Obsidian Order ship, Julian was very appreciative of his company.  
  
Surprisingly, no chemicals of any kind had been introduced yet -- Julian strained his senses to detect anything. They were roughened up and frisked, but not restrained or even separated.  
  
All in all, the treatment was ominously mild for the fearsome Order.  
  
"It's been a while. Do you suppose..."  
  
"They've forgotten about us? Please. The Order is ruined but these renegades were operatives once, Doctor. By now, they know your elementary school grades." Julian didn't think so. His father did a very thorough job. "No, they've already began. Soon we'll begin to doubt the very reality we are in."  
  
It sounded overdramatic but Garak's pacing did succeed in unnerving Julian.  
  
"Before it happens, we must decide." Garak stopped to fix Julian with a grim look. "How much pain can you withstand before you experience dissociation?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Have you had any training in Resistance to Interrogation?"  
  
"Just a basic academy course."  
  
"Not good." Garak continued to pace. "So it will be the torture of the body for you, the torture of the mind for me. I must admit, it is elegant."  
  
"Garak"--Julian grabbed Garak's arm to stop him--"what are you saying?"  
  
"I'm saying that it is time to decide."  
  
"Surely..."  
  
"Oh, please." Garak shrugged off Julian's hand. "I know the routine. We interrogate until the target breaks. You won't be much of a challenge, Doctor -- even these lesser operatives will get Federation secrets out of you in an hour, probably just by clever questions." Julian bristled. "But it's not all there is, isn't it? And once they see it, they'll start breaking you in earnest."  
  
Julian backed away, unable to deny it.  
  
"Then there is me," Garak said, dropping the subject. "No, my dear, a chance to survive always exists. But is it worth it?"

Julian struggled to grasp it. Were they really considering that way out?  
  
Before they could decide, a wall panel started to slide. Garak put his hands on Julian's shoulders just like he had done when they had met.  
  
"Broken stairs lead to death and despair," someone said from the darkness beyond the opened panel.  
  
Garak dropped his hands.  
  
"Let the death come swiftly to those who do not heed the message," he replied tersely.  
  
"You're so disgustingly old-fashioned, Elim." Cardassian appeared from the darkness, a leer on her face.  
  
"Ledgek. What a surprise."  
  
"No need for lengthy introductions. We should hurry, the voles squabble between themselves. Let's go."  
  
The tunnel behind the panel was unexpectedly spacious.  
  
"Have you guessed who would work on your companion?" Ledgek asked while lightning the way.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Tain wouldn't have thought out better, eh?"  
  
Garak scoffed. "What is the price?"  
  
"Not all of us for sale," Ledgek said, suddenly grim. "Do what you must."  
  
"And that's all? Do you expect me to believe it?"  
  
"Precisely."  
  
Apparently, that concluded negotiations. Several minutes later, they were leaving in their own runabout, keeping close to the Badlands to avoid detection.

The capture seemed surreal even as they finally laid on course for the Station and Julian began working on their bruises.  
  
Garak was tense and anxious to get back. He didn't speak with Julian at all.

* * *

Julian punched in the manual medical override and the door opened revealing a dark stuffy room. The bundle of blankets on the sofa didn't even twitch to acknowledge his presence as Garak continued to get drunk on a cheap kanar. For the sixth day in a row. Garak's usually neat hairs were dirty and in disarray -- Julian had never seen him so debased.

He had been avoiding Garak for months now, the mission to Bajor being a rare exception to that. Yet, he wasn't going to let Garak drop so low.  
  
Julian went to the replicator, punched in Miles' secret override and got himself the strongest liquid possible. Then he sat across Garak on the armchair.  
  
Twenty minutes later Julian caught up with Garak's state.  
  
"You look and smell awful, Mr. Garak."  
  
"Is it your medical opinion?" Garak's voice was hoarse.  
  
"Pff. I'm off duty. See? I'm battered."  
  
Garak chuckled. "Half of the station thinks I plot to get you drunk and to lure here." Julian splattered. "Little do they know, you do it out of your own free will."  
  
"Cut the crap, Garak. You're getting wasted here because... because"--Julian focused--"because you were going to snap my neck back there. When the Order got us. Don't deny it."  
  
"Were not," Garak said anyway. Then he heaved a deep sigh. "Rotec was right."  
  
"About what?"  
  
Garak didn't reply. Julian leaned over the small table and sent a bottle of something to the floor. "Garak, I get it. It's touching, really..."  
  
"Tough." The angry tone jolted Julian. "I never do anything for others."  
  
"You do all the time, for Cardassia."  
  
Garak scoffed and burrowed deeper into his blankets. Apparently, the mess with his brain implant had taught him that a true binge didn't require company. Fortunately (or not, depending on whom you asked), Julian's company was hard to shake off.  
  
"You wanted to spare me the pain, and stuff, and"-- Julian searched his empty skull--"it was wrong to decide for me. But nice. In a backwards kind of way."  
  
"Spare you?" Garak's face countered with derision. "What a notion. It is you who thinks backwards. Has your mind always been warped like this?"

"There was nothing wrong with my mind," Julian said, steel in his voice. The moment later, he caught himself, horrified at the slip. At least it managed to draw Garak out, and Julian didn't know whether to rejoice in it or despair.  
  
"It's obvious. Why should I care about others? About... you!" Garak pointed at Julian. "But I've been through this with Constable. I would torture, humiliate you, so many buttons to push. Would be excruciating." Garak sighed and shook his head.   
  
Julian reeled at the casual admission of this kind of expertise. But he began to see the picture. "Did you think they would make you torture me?"  
  
Garak didn't deign to reply.  
  
"Is that why Rotec was right?"  
  
Garak glanced up from the glass he was filling, clearly surprised at Julian's indirectness. Really. Did he think Julian couldn't keep up? Didn't he know Julian was a genius? Hopefully, he didn't.  
  
"Garak, why would anyone think that not wanting to hurt others is something to be ashamed of? Is it again that 'Gift of Pain' nonsense?"  
  
Garak's lips tightened in displeasure. "You miss the point, Doctor."  
  
"No, you miss the point!" Julian lifted a bottle to emphasize. "You're showing some humanity at last, is it so bad?"  
  
"Bad? For Cardassian to show humanity? What do you think?" He didn't wait for Julian to answer. "What kind of doctor you would be, if you no longer had a stomach for blood? These no good scraps of the Order have broken me without even trying. I've gone soft here..."  
  
"So what? Would torturing me make it better?"  
  
Garak tried to retrieve the bottle but Julian didn't surrender it. "You're not that simple, Doctor. You have access to Federation medical system, best counselling in the Quadrant, a vast support group." He suddenly glanced at the door. Julian turned to follow his gaze, and Garak, unimpeded, jerked the bottle from his hand. "What's a little trauma to resilient man like you? No, I chose a coward's way out that would leave you dead. Instead, I should've gone with the torture. I would survive, you would survive, and"--Garak's eyes darted away--"I would know all of your secrets."  
  
"Shouldn't an hour of clever questions be enough?"  
  
A reluctant smile crinkled Garak's eyes. Before he could reply, the door opened and then Miles was hauling Julian out of the armchair.  
  
"Oh, hello, Miles." He had to have been alerted by the use of the replicator override.  
  
"Next time, Garak, try not to drag Julian to whatever low place"--Miles looked around with disgust--"you live in."  
  
"You must be very happily married, Mr. O'Brien."  
  
"What is that supposed to mean?" Miles' tone promised violence, but, luckily for Garak, Miles was preoccupied with helping Julian to stay on his feet.  
  
"A partner not prone to jealousy is a guarantee of happy marriage, isn't that true?"  
  
Miles growled under his breath, and stirred Julian to the door.  
  
"Good evening, gentlemen!" Garak saluted them with his trophy bottle. Julian didn't have a chance to reply because the door was hissing shut.

* * *

"Overcompensated a bit, did you, Garak?"  
  
Garak didn't even glanced up from a padd he was reading.  
  
"Garak!"  
  
"And good day to you too, Doctor."  
  
Julian stepped closer to the force screen of the cell. "I'm simply livid with you right now, Garak! Do you even understand why?" He rocked on the balls of his feet. "Garak, I'm talking with you!"  
  
"Yes, Doctor, I've noticed. In fact"--Garak exchanged one padd for another--"I'm all of a quiver thinking about what you will do now, after getting so displeased with me. Will you cease our weekly lunches? Ah, but we haven't had them for a while. Maybe you'll start pointedly ignoring me? I don't think so -- you've already been doing it--"  
  
"Yes, about that..."  
  
"--Perhaps, you'll stoop to passive-aggressiveness? But that's another thing of the past. I think, Doctor"--Garak finally looked at him--"that you're out of your cards."  
  
"I've acted like an ass, I'm sorry, okay? I just..."  
  
Garak scoffed. "Unlike some people I can take a hint. Please, spare us both whatever speech you've prepared. You needn't explain yourself." He returned to his padd. Then he looked up as if surprised that Julian was still there. "Was there anything else, Doctor?"  
  
"Don't be like that, Garak. I own it, I wasn't being my best self these past few months..."  
  
"Constable! Constable! Is pestering from unwanted visitors a part of my punishment?"  
  
Julian stood there speechless for a moment. Then he said, his voice arctic cold: "It seems that Odo is another friend who ignores you now."  
  
Garak stared at the wall, perhaps, contemplating a break out or praying for patience. "What should I say to make you leave, Doctor? Will calling you mother a slut suffice?"  
  
Julian was so angry he could barely breathe. "Tell me the truth, Garak, that'll certainly make me gone."  
  
Garak flinched as if slapped. "Truth?"  
  
He rose to his feet, slow and more sinister for it. "I'm proud of you, Doctor, I am. You've grown some sense even before you saw for yourself that your life and lives of every last Founder out there means nothing to me." He crossed the cell, somehow looming over Julian despite the screen. "The only thing you lack is subtlety. You're vulgar and uncouth; indeed, you often make me cringe. I'm afraid that deficiency will never fade. Hopefully, your shallow simple wife won't mind it much."  
  
Julian took a deep breath to calm himself. "Thank you, Garak. But you don't need to be deliberately unpleasant to make it easier on me."  
  
"Of all conceited, self-centred..."  
  
Julian lifted his hand to stop the words. "I just need time to come to terms... with all of this. To forgive you. It won't be easy." Garak returned to his bunk, his movements jerky with anger.

"But I will do it," Julian said. Garak's hand stilled briefly over the padd. "Till then, if you need anything, don't be shy." Julian wiped his face with his hands. "It's not like you're ever shy or... But. Ask."   
  
He didn't know what else to do here. "See you later," he said at last.  
  
And then he was gone.


	3. Drugged and Taken advantage of

"Garak! How do you feel?"  
  
Garak opened his eyes and squinted even though the only light came from the two torches embedded in the doorframe. "Doctor?"

"There was an attack on the Station. Some of the power was cut off. More importantly"--Julian pressed his fingers on Garak's temple and one of his neck ridges, ignoring Garak's weak flinch--"unknown chemical agent was spread through the habitat ring. I think it does not affect me because of my augmentation, but judging by others it was a truth serum. Do you have an allergy to it?"  
  
"What? Why would I have an allergy? I'm immune to all known sixteen types of..." Garak's eyes widened in distress. "I didn't mean to say that."  
  
"So it is a truth serum." Julian sat back on his hunches. Garak tried to sit but he only managed to lean on the wall, seemingly exhausted by the effort. "That's actually a good news. I mean, that you don't have an adverse reaction to it. Aren't Obsidian Order operatives programmed to die when exposed to such chemicals?"  
  
"No." Garak's expression shifted to one of wariness. Julian knew how such drugs worked -- they turned a person into babbling uncoordinated mess -- and Garak's composure spoke like nothing else about the might and discipline of the destroyed Order.  
  
"That time after our capture by the Order, you told me you went on a binge because you were ashamed of growing soft. But you lied, didn't you?"  
  
Garak flinched but behind him was only a wall. Pinned at last. "No, I didn't."  
  
"See?" Julian jumped to his feet and started pacing. "That's the problem with you, Garak. You only ever tell me the truth when I'm the least likely to believe you. Don't you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I think it's a high time we had an honest conversation." Julian stopped pacing to loom over Garak. "All this time the lies about my augmentation had been drawing people away from me. From you especially. How many times I pulled back, fearing that as soon as I'd get close, Tain or someone else would send me something. Something that would make looking at you ever again impossible. Can't you see that your lies only hurt you in the end?"  
  
Garak shook himself, as if trying to clear his head.  
  
"You once told me that to know all of your secrets I have but to ask. Here I am -- asking."  
  
Garak chuckled, stopping Julian in his track. "You make a pathetic interrogator, my dear."  
  
"Think so?" Julian rounded on Garak. "Is Elim the name you were given at birth?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Where are we?"  
  
"My quarters on the Station."  
  
"How old are you in Cardassian orbital periods?"  
  
"Fifty-one." Garak looked grudgingly impressed. He always forgot that Julian was a genius. People like Julian ruled the worlds once.  
  
"What was the condition under which we were released by the Order?"  
  
"There were none."  
  
Julian tightened his lips in frustration. "What did they wanted you to do?"  
  
"To retrieve Tain."  
  
"And to destroy the Great Link? To finish what he started?"  
  
"No. That was common sense." Garak's voice was devoid of shame or remorse. Only for him, a genocide was common sense.  
  
"Why were you exiled from Cardassia?"  
  
"I wasn't."  
  
The atmosphere in the room shifted. It seemed that Julian had walked on a thin ice. "Why were you forbidden from getting back to Cardassia?"  
  
"I wasn't."  
  
Damned lizard! "You know what I mean! How did you betray Tain?"  
  
Garak didn't answer. He was shaking; a sweat poured down his temple, stopping at his jaw ridge. "I've never... betrayed Tain," he said at last, small smile on his lips. "You'll have to be more specific than this."  
  
"Fine!" Another tack then. "Why have you never realized that I was replaced by a Founder?"  
  
"You've promised to forgive me." Garak averted his eyes.  
  
"And? The Founder shown you this forgiveness?"  
  
"No. You've gone more distant where it counted and more generous where it didn't. I should've guessed a real Julian would be too immature to change our relationship like that."  
  
Julian ignored the insult. "I'm sorry, Garak. But distance was all that kept my secret safe. I keep wondering though. Didn't you know about it?"  
  
"Knew it existed; it didn't bother me. Clever of you not to trust me. Still, so much fuss over something so little."  
  
"Must seem little to you." Julian sighed. "Even Founders didn't know about it. The last question, Garak. Tell me, after all of this, 'not getting exiled', pathetic existence here on the Station, failing to save your mentor, watching your Empire going to its ruin… How does it feel?"  
  
"It hurts," Garak said, almost spitting it. Julian didn't manage to enjoy the moment because he was shot by the phaser Garak was hiding up his sleeve.

* * *

"Garak! What's..." Julian abruptly stopped and lifted his hands. The air stung of unknown chemical. Garak was getting to his feet using a wall for support. But the phaser in his hand pointed unwaveringly at Julian.  
  
"You've got twenty seconds to prove your identity, Doctor Bashir."  
  
A stain on the floor explained what happened to the Founder dispatched to deal with Garak.  
  
"I am me because..." Julian weighted possible answers. The one that wouldn't give the whole truth was the best -- just in case someone was listening. "Because you let me stay that time."  
  
Garak looked a mess -- dishevelled, hairs and clothes in disarray. He breathed heavily as if he had just run a marathon. More importantly, he looked gloriously angry -- phaser in hand and eyes ablaze, a deadly panther scrapping for revenge. Hot. What? Julian cursed the Founders and mentally shook himself.  
  
Garak lowered his phaser. "Report, Doctor Bashir."

"There were some power cuts. Founder who was impersonating you... approached me but I managed to expose them. In the resulting chase, I stumbled on Mr. Worf who proceeded to follow the Founders. I alerted Captain Sisko and Station security then ran here to check on you."  
  
"Why are you so sure I'm not a Founder?"  
  
"Well..." Julian realized that he had nothing to say.  
  
"Thought so." Garak shook his head. "Your problem, not mine." He sighed as if fed up with the whole situation. "Seems the Founders decided to terrorize the three of us as a punishment for breaking out of their prison camp. We must warn General Martok as soon as possible." Garak looked at the stain with disgust. "You should have seen this Founder, they were even angrier at me than you for my attempt at their planet."  
  
"I gather... your Founder pretended to be me."  
  
"Yes."  
  
For a moment Julian couldn't breathe, the now familiar fear of being replaced, erased, and never missed surging inside him. But Garak looked a lot more shaken.  
  
"Garak, are you alright?"  
  
"No," Garak said, obviously against his will. "Dratted truth serum!"

That explained the chemical smell in the air. "Oh my God, are you..."  
  
"Shut it, Doctor." Garak's hold on the phaser tightened so Julian did just that. For a while.  
  
"Garak, you must know, I would never..."  
  
"Take advantage of me? Yes." He leaned on the sofa. "In fact, that alone would have been a dead give-away even if there hadn't been countless other slips."  
  
"Then why..." Julian began but Garak stopped him with a gesture.  
  
"I've told you already, Doctor. I've grown soft"--Julian had to get his mind out of the gutter--"I should've realised that your behaviour during that month was inconsistent." He shrugged with an air of resignation.  
  
Julian thought about that. Now that his secret was out, perhaps, his friends just like Garak would not make the same mistake twice.  
  
Sudden worrying thought crossed Julian mind when he recalled his friends.  
  
"But, Garak, wait. Miles, Jadzia, and others always tell me that I could be a right prick. What if I were just acting like a prick asking you invasive questions?"  
  
"Then, Doctor," Garak said, his voice devoid of any doubt, "you would've died for being a prick. Speaking of which"--Garak gave him a once-over--"how did you figure out it was a Founder who approached you? Actually, you look worse for wear yourself."  
  
Julian froze -- he had been dreading this question. With each passing second, Garak's stare grew more and more suspicious. Perhaps, a truth serum had finally kicked in, because Julian blurted it out. "It's just that you value subtlety so much"--Garak stared at him in disbelief--"while that Founder clearly didn't."  
  
"How so?"  
  
Julian flushed. But he was a grown-up, for pity's sake! "The Founder sounded like a bad porn, that's how." Garak didn't gape but he certainly blinked too much. "Rather like that footage you blocked Odo's surveillance with," Julian added, feeling that he was again losing his ground.  
  
"And as my manners are always impeccable..."  
  
Julian huffed. "It's just I knew you would never make a move on me, especially the one so crass!"  
  
Garak pinched the bridge of his nose.  
  
"Don't be like that, Garak, our values are so different, and..."  
  
"Do you imagine, Doctor, that I only shag Cardassian patriots?" Garak's voice dripped with sarcasm.  
  
"Well." Julian tried not to fix on the vulgarity. "I admit that it sounded better in my head."  
  
Garak stepped in front of him. "I realized I was talking with a Founder," Garak said, unwaveringly holding Julian's gaze, "because they looked at me with hatred. And you guessed the same because I was what, coming on too aggressively? Do you know me at all?" Julian squirmed. "My hints are never subtle, Julian."  
  
"Sorry?" Julian offered.  
  
Garak's eyes darted away from Julian and back. "But just to clear the air -- did you like it?"  
  
"What?" Whatever blood in Julian's body was not heating his face already, rushed there.  
  
"That 'crass' approach?"  
  
Garak was even closer now, and coupled with powerful chemical in the air, impossible to resist. "Yes." Oh God.  
  
Garak's hands settled on Julian's waist while he leaned to whisper in Julian's ear: "Crass enough?"  
  
The hot exhale tickled Julian's neck. The lightness of touch, completely devoid in the Founder's approach, drove to Julian that it was real. He could hardly breathe.  
  
"Don't you agree that after all you've survived"--Garak's right hand slipped up to settle over Julian's heart--"I've survived." Julian shuddered. "And I know all of your secrets. What are we to lose?"  
  
The last question was punctuated by the feather-light kiss on Julian's neck, that almost made him jump from his skin.  
  
"Drugs, Garak, drugs!"  
  
Another kiss. "So?"  
  
"We're compromised. We can't consent!" Federation training really stuck, if Julian could still fall back on it even with all this fog in his head.  
  
Garak sighed and drew away. "Indeed?" He sighed again. "Oh well, can't argue with my doctor, can I?"  
  
"Your doctor?" Julian asked just to get them on an equal footing. "And you don't know even half of my secrets."   
  
"I'm sure I'll derive much pleasure by extracting your opinion on the latest tennis rackets and 50th digit of the number Pi."  
  
"Very funny."  
  
Julian thought he could stand like this, in Garak's arms, for the rest of his life but, of course, at that moment the door opened.  
  
"Ah, Doctor! Reliving fantasy, eh?" Quark's insinuating tone was utterly unnecessary.  
  
"Don't go before me!" Odo appeared behind Quark in the doorway.  
  
Garak reluctantly let Julian go. Oh well, it was time to take charge.  
  
"There is a truth serum in the air! Please get out of the room."  
  
As Quark's face became several tones paler, and Odo managed to harrumph triumphantly, Julian thought that sometimes pain and suffering, indeed, brought you gifts you had never even dreamt of. Catching Garak's eyes across the room, he was certain of that.


End file.
